


abet

by Sir_Mantra



Series: Alphabetical Akaken [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 01:36:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7339261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sir_Mantra/pseuds/Sir_Mantra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the perfect crime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	abet

**Author's Note:**

> right. this pairing is so pretty and so it deserves lots and lots of drabbles. yeah!!

 

“Please may I do it, Kenma?”

Kenma looked up from his portable console. The sound of his character dying a cruel death was loud, and as a result of that _and_ Akaashi’s strange request, he narrowed his eyes.

“What?” Kenma asked, frowning. “Are you being serious right now?”

Despite his growing sheepishness, Akaashi straightened his back and maintained direct eye contact with Kenma. “Kenma,” he said, voice unintentionally low to mask any remaining bashfulness, “I am very serious right now.”

Kenma’s eyes widened and his cheeks flushed. His mouth, however, remained stuck in a tight line. He immediately fidgeted with himself, looking anywhere else but at Akaashi’s face. Kenma’s hair bounced with every staccato turn of his head, his eyes blinking rapidly in time with the rigidness of the turns.

Akaashi couldn’t watch him. It was so painfully _obvious_ that Kenma was feeling awkward. And, to be honest, he had _every_ reason to because Akaashi had been far too blunt and just outright asked if he could—

“Eat my ass?” Kenma repeated quietly, suddenly calm. Akaashi, in any other circumstance, would have been impressed at how quickly Kenma calmed himself down. 

Instead, Akaashi nodded his head slowly. Despite having thrown Kenma in the deep end, he still felt as if he had to approach the situation with such delicacy. It was like a plaster - ripping it off straight away could startle Kenma, but if he, very, very slowly, explained himself and his reasons, then the pain, although still there and throbbing distantly, would be sufficiently less…

…right?

Kenma sighed, accepting his fate as he lowered his head in defeat, and then pulled down his pants.

Akaashi gulped. So much for _not_ ripping the plaster off, then.

“Um, Kenma,” he said, eyes wide, “it’s okay, you don’t need to do anything you don’t want to—”

“I know…” he said, his stature grand and before him, and yet his eyes stared off into whatever was beside him. The tilt of his head bared his neck, the ends of his hair reaching below his jawline. Like this, in such a vulnerable yet commanding position, it was as if Kenma was a dream. It didn’t seem real. It was all fake, wasn’t it?

And yet his body stood tall whilst his voice was small, his whisper barely audible as he said, “…But I want you to.”

And that was how Akaashi found himself with his tongue in Kenma’s ass and Kenma riding his face. With every flick of his tongue, Kenma jittered stiffly and then melted back into his touch. His hands, which rested beside Akaashi as he held himself up, trembled under the weight of his quivering body. Kenma’s back arched, a perfect concave that put him off balance a few times.

But the best part was his moans. They were high, transcendent, and glistened like a celeste. With Kenma trembling under his touch and his little moans breathless in the air, Akaashi could not be any happier.

It was the perfect crime.


End file.
